


The One Who Laughs Last

by newbandnamethx



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Mutual Pining, and megatron isnt a mind reader, eventual sticky, starscream has a lot of anger issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:48:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25161895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newbandnamethx/pseuds/newbandnamethx
Summary: Autobots and Decepticons have found their way to peace and all is going well for everyone, except the fact that Megatron is a pining oaf and Starscream main pastime in regards to him is attempted  murder.Playing reluctant intermediaries: Ratchet, Optimus, Skywarp, Thundercracker and probably more.
Relationships: Megatron/Starscream (Transformers)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 76





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I skipped out on using the whole transformer time units because frankly I find them confusing and irritating, so sorry if that breaks your immersion. The rating is probably going up to explicit fyi.

Neither Skywarp or Thundercracker had been close enough to the two to hear what the argument that started the whole ordeal had been. If Thundercracker had to hazard a guess it was probably appearance based. Either way, they had been standing chatting idly with the Autobot medic when hell broke loose.

Starscream lurched up and his servo connected with Megatron’s face in a sickening crack. Energon dribbled through what Ratchet could only imagine would be a cracked faceplate. As Starscream drew up again for another hit Megatron caught his fist, wiping energon away with his other servo.

The Autobots around them gaped. Not because they weren’t used to seeing Decepticon infighting, but since peacetime the malicious behavior between Ex-Cons had dropped off drastically as the former enemy faction did their best to integrate into normal non combat oriented life.

With one exception seemingly.

“Do this all the time did they?” Ratchet said, knocking back highgrade and praying to Primus no one called him over to sort them out after.

“Oh no they’ve slowed down since the war ended, don’t worry,” Thundercracker said airily. The blue seeker had a habit of sticking to the walls at functions. His excitable partner was the opposite and had drug him into polite conversation with the mech that had patched him up a time or two on the rare occasion when he had been captured.

“Yeah they used to fight like, three times a day and that was with Soundwave mediating,” Skywarp interjected, looking at the spat like it was just another usual occurrence.

“And Soundwave is…?” Ratchet probed. He hadn’t seen the quieter mech around for some time, save sparingly at important events it was highly recommended (required) all ex high ranking officials of both factions attend.

“Retired and wouldn’t come back to mediating those two for any amount your processor can calculate,” Thundercracker said glancing sideways at him. 

“Believe me, first thing we tried when we realized this,” He gestured broadly at the Starscream and Megatron, who were now grappling with each other and looking like they were on a collision course with the dessert table. “Was going to be a long term issue and not just them burning off pent up frustration from the war.”

“I don’t get why those two stick around each other if they don’t want anything to do with one another,” Ironhide said, butting into the conversation as he sidled up to the trio.

“Oh they want everything to do with each other,” Thundercracker said as he upended the last of his drink into his mouth. “They just haven’t figured out whatever it is they need or how to express it like civil mechs.”

“And they both got like, a backlog of paranoia a galaxy long they’re working through,” Skywarp said. “I think Screamer is still sleeping with his null ray under his bed.”

“That’s not healthy,” Ratchet muttered, shaking his empty cube.

“Oh definitely not, no,” Thundercracker said with tired bemusement. “I tried removing it at risk of getting shot, he either finds another or gets something worse.”

“I find it hard to believe they’re fighting less if this is how they act in public,” Ratchet said incredulously.

“Oh they fight less, trust me. I think this is the first time that Screamer’s even been outside in a month,” Skywarp said.

“What?” 

Thundercracker sighed tiredly, “We’ve tried to get him out but, he’s not taking this whole peacetime thing in stride like the rest of us.”

“You should’ve seen him when Megatron announced the surrender, I think that was the closest he got to actually assassinating him, got like half way through his neck cabling before Soundwave put his processor through a wall,” Skywarp said, and he looked like he wanted to laugh off the memory, but visceral unease at the close call kept him from doing so. “I don’t think he sees Megatron as the same mech anymore.”

“Yeah this is,” Thundercracker glanced over at the two warring mechs nervously before continuing. “Almost a complete one eighty from where they were before the surrender. They were almost like an actual functioning couple before all this.”

“TC and I had a bet they were going to get conjunxed before the Nemesis was fully decommissioned,” Skywarp said with a wistful smile. “Lost that one as of a month ago.”

The scuffle appeared to reach its peak when the dessert table finally went crashing sending both Megatron and Starscream to the floor with it, causing an enormous surge of noise only surpassed by the sudden boom of “Enough!”

Helms turned to see a very irritated looking Optimus rapidly approaching the now energon sweet encrusted duo. He gripped both by the elbow and with a surprising lack of resistance and only a few more exchanged unpleasantries, the two were led from the room.

“So you’re telling me,” Ratchet says with a heavy sigh, looking at the place where two mechs screaming in each other's faces just the moment before. “4 million years of that, and they ain’t a couple?”

“Define couple,” Thundercracker said tiredly.

“They’ve certainly coupled,” Skywarp said with a leer. Thundercracker elbowed him roughly.

“Actual functioning healthy dynamic with romance,” Ratchet said dryly, looking between the two, unamused.

“Hmm,” Skywarp tapped his hand on his chin, “Healthy, no, functional, no, romance… does that time he half tore off Screamer's wing before the peacetime ceremony and carried him to the medbay count?”

“I don’t believe it does,” Said Thundercracker in a bored monotone.

“Hmm, then no. Sorry Ratch, seems like they’re your issues now,” Skywarp said with a nudge, which promptly earned him a slap from the battered old medic.

“Oh ho. Oh no. No way are these two scrapping each other up in their little hate fling and then dragging their sorry afts to my medbay for cleanup duty,” Ratchet said, folding his arms in front of him and squaring his stance as if looking stern enough could save him from the oncoming onslaught of Decepticon drama.

“What do you plan to do about it?” Thundercracker asked with bland amusement. In truth, he’d love to see Megatron and Screamer both getting shouted down by Ratchet. It would make his week.

Megatron had reappeared in the room concerningly sans Optimus, with Starscream in his grip and appeared to be attempting to leave while the other battered him with verbal abuse and physical blows.

“You two are gonna help me get them two,” Ratchet pointed to where Starscream was slowly struggling and choking in Megatron's headlock. “Into a normal relationship. I’m already tired of what I’ve seen tonight and I am not dealing with more than that.”

“Believe me, you should talk to Hook,” Skywarp snorted. 

“And hear his horror stories? No thanks,” Ratchet gruffed as finally Starscream was dragged from the room and the din that came in with them left with them too. An uneasy sort of quiet resumed in their place. Thundercracker glanced around. The scene those two had caused could not be good for keeping up post war Decepticon appearances.

“Okay but how? You think we haven’t tried? Optimus has practically been hounding us to help get them to sort their stuff out and if we had a clue of what to do we’d have done it ten times over already,” Thundercracker said, looking in the direction his trinemate had disappeared with mild concern.

“You want to go check on him?” Ratchet asked, looking after him.

“Don’t worry, the bond will tell us if Megatron’s killed him,” Skywarp said cheerfully while Thundercracker rolled his optics.

In the other room there was a muffled shout and banging. Ratchet squinted at the noise, straining to hear it better.

“Is Optimus locked in the supply closet?”

\---

Starscream could hear the screech of his pedes on cement as he was dragged bodily out of the party. He didn’t even know why he had come, being a noxious little recluse had been going so well for him. He stayed in his apartment, mixing variants of chemicals that may or may not have generated explosive compounds that if discovered could get him classed as a domestic terrorist and-

“You never make things easy do you?” A low voice rumbled, contempt clear in its inflection.

Starscream looked up at the ugly, sharp, jagged cut of Megatron’s face. Something about seeing that familiar scowl and being locked into that oh so accommodating death grip again made his spark flicker with nervous energy.

That’s right, he’d gone because Megatron had sent him a request to accompany him and catch up on old stories and they had, hadn’t they? It had been going so well for about five minutes before they got into the meat of the surrender, or “peace talks” as Megatron liked to call them to shield his wounded ego.

Starscream sneered, it had been going so nice until he’d been reminded of the reality that 4 million years of his life had gone into nothing. All that sacrifice and sparkache….

“Yes well, we see where making things easy got you. Tell me does the inside of Optimus’ aft taste the-”

There was a blinding flash of pain that fired off at the same time a sickening crunch reached his audials and the contents of Starscream’s fuel tank were purged onto the cement beneath them as Megatron was drawing back his servo that had clearly just made a rather nasty dent in his wing.

“Starscream I-,” Megatron almost looked sorry. Aww, wasn’t that cute.

Starscream leered up at him, wiping the highgrade refuse from his face, “Isn’t this quaint, just like old times. I’ll admit I’ve grown soft without someone denting in my wings every week.”

Megatron looked at him dully, optics dimming in exhaustion of what he was sure was going to be another reminder of the same fight they had had scores of times.

“Is that why you invited me here? Old times? My old friend Megatron, trying to recapture the good times?” Starscream was suddenly in his space again, purring and looking coy, nothing like the mech that had just been retching on the sidewalk, then glaring holes into him a minute ago. He looked like his air commander then, back when they had met in the pits, sharp, cunning, seductive….

How long had it been since Starscream looked at him like that? Certainly not since before he announced the peacetime pact. He looked down at the delicately sharp angles of Starscream’s dark face, at the quirked bow of his lips.

It had been going so well for them, hadn’t it?

Starscream’s finger was on his jaw, lips not far behind it and Megatron found himself being pulled into his embrace, Starscream’s mouth close to audial. He found his hips on his waist and why couldn’t they have done this sooner, before they made a scene in front of the Autobots? He was sure Optimus wouldn’t be letting him hear the end of it tomorrow.

“You know it really has been a long time,” Starscream purred, running his hands across the smooth armor of Megatron’s shoulders, fingers skimming the cracks and seams and his lips were so close he could feel the heat of his exhaust, smell his polish, almost taste it.

The brushing had him wanting Starscream in ways he hadn’t since they were back on the Nemesis, those devilish hands lightly touching him in ways he knew would steadily heat up Megatron’s frame like a furnace.

He looked down at the seeker and Starscream looked up at him, soaking in the adoration plain on his ex superiors’ face before drawing in close to him again, lips brushing his audial.

“But really, really, it hasn’t been long enough,” Starscream said, sweet voice turning sour. And Megatron had grown soft to that, had been lulled into the postwar bliss, he wasn’t as quick or anticipatory as he used to be.

Primus knows where he procured it from but Megatron found himself roaring in blinding pain as he found a screwdriver wedged deep in the seam between his shoulder plating, in a dense knot of sensitive wiring and cables. Before he could even recover enough to stop him from doing otherwise, Starscream had kicked off away from him, took a running start, and leapt into the air, engines booming as he transformed and shot away, leaving Megatron crouched on his knees heaving in pain.

Peacetime had made him soft.

\--

“Why did you even invite him out? Did you honestly think it was going to go well?” Ratchet was prattling on in the background as his adept fingers poked and prodded at his cracked face plate. The party had cleared and they were now using one of the empty tables as a makeshift medical berth while Ratchet took a cursory look at what it would take to remove the screwdriver and repair his face.

They had found Optimus locked in a supply closet when he had just about busted the door off its hinges and the mech was standing to the side examining at his old enemy's wounds with a quiet strained look on his face.

“I thought off the Nemesis, with full rations and a more accommodating lifestyle,” Megatron began before trailing off. “That he would lose some of his neurotic, homicidal tendencies.” he spat, entire frame tensing at the memory that had just occurred a little under an hour ago. “But it seems he’s still the same wretched, plotting, piece of slag he’s ever been.”

Ratchet slapped him on his good shoulder as he moved to take a look at his other wound, “Stop tensing.” Megatron did his best to relax his frame, shooting the medic a resentful glower which he returned, thankfully without comment.

“Aww, come on, Screamer isn’t that bad,” Skywarp said, daring to awkwardly pat Megatron on his non damaged shoulder. It was a testament to the mech’s foul mood or his lingering pain, that he let him without so much as a snarl or wayward glare. Still, Skywarp backed up to sit on an adjacent table with Thundercracker.

In truth the large mech looked worn and tired and just a little heartsick. Ratchet couldn’t say he quite had pity in his spark for the old tyrant yet, but he had been the one to put an end to the bloodshed and find an actual way to compromise. And with the crew of blood thirsty maniacs and mercenaries under him, that was some feat.

“Bad? He’s impossible, I’ve walked into ten on one ambushes with better odds than talking to that,” Megatron’s entire frame quivered as he tried to suppress his frustration, “blasted seeker.” He finished, and Thundercracker had the idea that that was the tamest option he had in terms of describing Starscream.

“Well at least he wasn’t trying to kill you this time, he could’ve easily have gone for severing neck cables again,” Thundercracker said, eyeing the position of the screwdriver. 

“I’ll thank Primus for his jovial mood,” Megatron muttered, hands twitching as Ratchet brushed the screwdriver with a wet cloth.

“This cannot continue as it is,” Optimus finally deigned to interject. 

Megatron rolled his optics with an indignant snort, “Thank you Prime, I’ll be sure to tell my former second that stabbing other mechs during peacetime is against decorum.”

“It's an assault of an essential political figure,” Prime said seriously, looking at Megatron. “And I have been trying to be patient and give you two time to adjust, because I am aware your relationship is rather volatile-.”

“Relationship. What relationship?” Megatron said stubbornly as Thundercracker and Skywarp seemed to be struggling to contain their exasperation behind him.

“I know of no other mechs you would allow to do such a thing to you and then continue to allow them to exist in one piece.”

“He was too fast and used my disorientation to his advantage,” Megatron shrugged, earning him another slap from Ratchet.

“And knowing he possessed those qualities beforehand, you still let him get close to you while you two were alone. That is not something the Megatron I know would permit among known enemies.”

“He was my second in command, and a good soldier and confidant … at times,” Megatron finished but his hesitation betrayed the fact that he was holding back another explanation. Skywarps wing twitched.

“Intelligence reports said the two of you had been getting along well before the pact,” Optimus and there was something so soft and imploring in his gaze that Megatron had to turn away.

“His mood was certainly more accommodating,” Megatron nodded. 

Ratchet had to suppress a snort at what was probably the understatement of the century if Skywarp and Thundercracker were to be believed. He glanced at the duo to see they were likewise holding back knowing smirks. Ratchet’s caught Optimus’ optic and his smile faded as he focused on dabbing around the edges of the wound on Megatron’s shoulder, slowly wiping away the excess energon so he could get a good look at the wound site.

“And?” Optimus pressed.

“And that changed when we surrendered. I gave him time to recoup himself and tonight I was hoping we could rekindle our comradery,” Megatron finished in a clipped rush.

Optimus was well aware he was getting a paltry and somewhat inaccurate summary of an entire novel of history between Megatron and his infamously bad tempered air commander, but he also knew pushing Megatron until he flew into an incomprehensible rage wouldn’t do much for his cause either.

“Whatever the reason, you cannot continue to see Starscream if this is the state of your relationship.”

Megatron jolted up violently as the screwdriver was promptly wrenched from his shoulder by an impatient Ratchet, who immediately began to staunch the flow of energon with a pain inhibitor laced piece of gauze.

“I’ll have you warn me next time before you do that medic,” he growled lowly at Ratchet, turning his helm to bore holes into the impassive medic. 

“Next time, eh? Planning on visiting Starscream again so soon then?” Megatron looked like he wanted to put Ratchet through a wall but the fight in him died down as Ratchet pressed the gauze deeper into the wound, earning him a wince.

“You can’t micromanage my interpersonal relationships Prime,” Megatron snarled lowly as he grimaced in pain, turning his attention back to the real target of his ire.

“I cannot. I also cannot protect Starscream for much longer on what the courts will see as an attempt at political assasination if they’re feeling generous, or an attempt at treason against a emerging government at worst.”

Optimus kneeled down in front of Megatron, looking deep into his irritated, pain swamped optics.

“Old friend,” A servo came to rest lightly over his and while Megatron’s servo twitched to pull back on impulse, he didn’t. “We have been trying to give you time and a grace period, but the patience of others is not my decision and especially after tonight it is quickly running thin.”

Megatron shifted uneasily face laced with pain and turmoil, and it was obvious that not all of it was from his wound.

“Can you two not give any insight into the situation?” Optimus asked, turning to where Skywarp and Thundercracker were sat, observing the situation in pensive silence.

Skywarp looked uneasy and Thundercracker looked exhausted, “Our bond with Starscream has been undergoing a certain amount of strain lately. Even if we had the capacity to betray our trinemates trust,” he said, looking between the other mechs pointedly. “We couldn’t.”

Optimus frowned deeply.

“Very well. I would recommend for now, not interacting with Starscream one on one for your mutual safety,” Optimus sighed. “I do not, as of yet, know how I am going to explain this to the onlookers who will surely demand an explanation.”

“I dented his wing,” Megatron said, a fraction of guilt coloring his tone. “I escalated it into a physical altercation. Put the blame of it on me. Please,” Megatron looked to Skywarp and Thundercracker. “Tell your trinemate I apologize for that.”

Skywarp smiled tiredly, “If anything the pain will do him good. Keep him from holing himself up in his apartment and force him to seek out a medic.”

“I don't know about that, his talent for moping is something else,” Thundercracker sighed.

“Perhaps it is time I requested Starscream in for permanent duty,” Optimus said thoughtfully. “He has a history in politics, no?”

“Screamer? Yeah like, a lifetime ago,” Skywarp said, struggling to even remember what his trinemate had been like when he was involved in senatorial business. 

“Still, when he wants to apply them, it is very clear he has a knack for politics, diplomacy and the associated skills.”

“Oh yeah, I would love to get visited by a stuck up politician who fell victim to some of his diplomacy,” Ratchet said, twirling the energon caked screwdriver in his servos.

“By associated skills, do you mean intimidation?” Thundercracker smirked. The idea of his trinemate getting hauled off to do a job where he could express his pent up sadistic streak warmed his spark a little.

“I am sure something could be arranged that would benefit all parties,” And the look on his face was as close to devious as Ratchet thought Optimus could get.

“But for now,” Optimus said, turning his attention back to Megatron. “Please do exercise caution.” Around Starscream went unsaid but was understood by all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Optimus pays the seekers a visit and Starscream gets his shit together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this is a bit messy and all over the place, I'm getting back into writing and things are a bit janky atm.

When Optimus Prime showed up at their home, a few days after the party, Skywarp nearly teleported out of the house so he could jet off and away out of instinct. Recognizing the alarm on the purple seeker’s face Optimus raised a placating servo. 

“Sorry for the unannounced arrival. I was wondering if I could chat with you two a bit concerning your trine leader.”

“Yeah he is rather concerning,” Skywarp muttered, before trying to force the unease he felt at Optimus’ presence down and away. 

“Sure, welcome.” Optimus was what he liked to refer to as Autobot Megatron inside his own processor. Sure he wasn’t quiet as petulant or foul-tempered, or violent, or unpredictable-

But he was big, intimidating and powerful and had been trying to offline them for a few million years. 4 million years of instincts developed during wartime didn’t exactly go away overnight. Swallowing it down he stepped aside, gesturing inside.

Thundercracker appeared around the corner, “Skywarp, who was-.”

His optics flicked up to see the looming frame of Optimus. Thundercracker regarded him with first mild surprise and then keen interest.

“Hello Prime,” He said, dipping his helm slightly out of respect. It was probably the first time in a while that Optimus had heard his title used with seemingly genuine respect instead of as some form of abstract slur.

“Please, call me Optimus,” he said. 

“Well Optimus, would you like a seat? Some energon?”

“He’s here to talk about Screamer,” Skywarp informed his partner. Conjunx? Prime had never been informed as to the finer details of the elite trine’s relationship with one another.

Thundercracker nodded agreeably. “I’m not surprised.” He gestured to a comfortable looking couch and inclined his helm. “Sit, please.”

Optimus did so. He noted the space. It was open and high ceilinged, unsurprising for a seeker home. The room was tidy and sparse, with only a few framed pictures and awards lining the walls. He noticed one was of their trine, all of them looking shiny and bright and young.

Skywarp followed his gaze, his optics landing on the frame. He snorted, tone growing fond, “Oh yeah that was us back in the academy days. Screamer looked way less angry back then.”

He did. It was probably the most genuine smile he had seen on the mech’s face, unburdened by spite or plotting calculation. He couldn't have been much older when he first met Megatron and was sucked up into that whole sordid affair.

“Oh are we talking about back when Star was nice,” Thundercracker said, returning to the room and setting down a tray of three energon cubes. 

“Screamer was never nice,” Skywarp said with a huff of a suppressed laugh. “At best he was not in the mood to blow out his vocalizer.”

“He never stabbed anyone with a screwdriver back in academy days, that's for sure,” Thundercracker said as he reached for an energon cube, turning his attention back to Optimus. “Now what did you want to ask us about?”

“I have some concerns about your leader and was wondering if you knew the root cause,” Optimus said as he himself took his cube. It occurred to him how odd it was to be sitting among decepticon company sipping a cup without having to question if it was poisoned.

“Like we said before, Starscream’s been distant,” Skywarp said with a shrug. His wings dipped at the admission.

“Is this all over the peace pact?” Optimus asked, “I’ve heard that Starscream didn’t receive the news well.”

“I don’t think its that,” Thundercracker said, brow pinched as he was deep in thought. “Starscream hardly seems like he wants to reignite the war now. And the peace pact wasn't a surprise to Skywarp or me, we saw the negotiations coming for months, maybe even a year or two. So no way was Starscream caught off guard for it. If anything it seems like the timing might’ve clashed with a personal issue he was having with Megatron. But as to what that was, I have no clue.”

The room sat in silence for a moment as its occupants each seemed caught up in their own individual thoughts before Skywarp piped up.

“What about Megatron? He didn’t always seem to have such a weak spot for Starscream,” Skywarp said, thinking back on the way he had seen Megatron looking at Starscream those last few months before everything fell apart. He had seemed more touchy than ever before, and not in the violent way. 

He’d seen the lingering touches, sometimes to Starscream’s wings or once on his cockpit. His trinemate hadn’t seemed to mind, but to the rest of the crew the touches were startlingly gentle and intimate. Especially between those two.

Optimus chuckled deeply, “Oh this, this isn’t new with him. He has always had his type.”

“By type you mean seekers?” Thundercracker asked, eyeing him.

“Not just seekers,” Optimus said with a wry smile. “He’s always liked the small, fiery ones.”

“He certainly fits that description,” Thundercracker huffed in amusement.

“Yeah well, Screamer’s always had a type too,” Skywarp said, stopping a moment to consider how odd it was they were swapping gossip with Optimus Fraggin’ Prime, before continuing. “He’s always liked them big,” he said remembering the lumbering size of Skyfire.

“And dopey,” Thundercracker tacked on.

“Dopey? What about Megatron is dopey to you?” Skywarp hissed, looking around him as if their former overlord were about to materialize to beat the scrap out of them any moment and chew them out for insubordination. 

“Have you seen the way he looks at Starscream when he’s especially pleased with him?” Thundercracker said pointedly. Skywarp mulled that over for a minute with a soft “oh yeah”.

Optimus suppressed a snort.

“Either way, the point of all this is, your former air commander cannot be allowed to make more attempts on Megatron’s life. While I understand his success was to be rewarded in the ranks of the decepticons, that is not the case here,” Optimus said seriously, looking between the two seekers.

“It would be a political assasination, and anything short of capital punishment would be generous.”

“Frag,” Skywarp said softly. They really had to start pulling their trinemate out of the mud before he got himself offlined.

“I think for now, maybe continuing to separate them would be good,” Thundercracker said slowly.

“If only it were so easy to keep Megatron from the things he wants,” Optimus sighed. “He will find his way to Starscream or Starscream to him, and the longer we delay their interactions the more likely it is for things to escalate.”

“Okay, so what would you propose?” 

“As I mentioned at the party, I’d like to offer Starscream a job, both because I think it would improve his disposition and also help him grow accustomed to post war life by giving him some form of a schedule and tasking.”

“And Megatron?” Skywarp asked, tilting his helm as to how the ex leader figured into the equation.

“He’ll be working around in the same area and he and Starscream might on occasion have tasking overlaps that require them to interact in a supervised and public environment,” Optimus said as if he hoped those factors would be able to stop the two from openly brawling in a work setting.

Probably not. But his optimism was admirable.

\---

If the summons had been sent by datapad, Starscream would’ve burned it in a wastebasket and claimed he never got it.

If it had been sent by his trine, he probably could’ve bullied his way out of it by insisting they had given him the wrong information or something in that same vein. Same with if it had been some hapless underling.

It was neither of those things.

A mild ping of shame went through Starscream’s spark as he opened up the door to see the looming frame of Optimus Prime gracing his welcome mat. His apartment was nothing short of a disaster. Datapads and chemical containers lay everywhere along with half empty energon cubes, abandoned experiments with chemicals slowly congealing in them, and the occasional piece of trash from a snack.

To any mech glancing in, it was clear that Starscream had not left the apartment even to take out his waste in weeks. He didn’t even want to think about how apparent it was that he needed to be doused in solvent.

“Prime,” He said, voice clipped. He was expecting a chew out for the incident with Megatron a few days ago. Probably a lecture on keeping up appearances, blah, blah, blah. Not making a scene, what you did was a chargeable offense- Primus spare him.

What he did not expect was for Optimus to hand him a job description. 

“We have need of your services,” He said, smiling broadly like he had given Starscream some great honor.

Which well. He probably had in the eyes of most mechs. But Starscream obviously wasn’t most mechs. He skimmed the paper and then flicked his optics up to Optimus’. 

“And if I decline?”

“It’s less of a request and more of a conscription,” The grating presence of Ratchet’s voice made itself known. 

“Tell me do you follow him around like an overbearing creator or is Prime granted some autonomy?”

Ratchet ignored the comment and jabbed a digit at the summons. 

“That there is your get out of jail free card. Community service or jail time, yours to choose.”

“After so long on the Nemesis I think you underestimate how appealing jail sounds,” Starscream sneered looking down at the piece of paper between his servos and suppressing the urge to crumple it.

“Can’t be much worse than this habitation unit of yours,” Ratchet sniffed, kicking a stray wrapper. Indignation burned through Starscream’s fuel lines as he opened his mouth to retort.

“Ratchet, a moment if I may,” Optimus rumbled, cutting in between them and stepping fully into his apartment. “Pardon the intrusion.” He said with a nod to Starscream. With an apologetic look he shut the door on Ratchet.

“Would you like to take a seat for this conversation,” Optimus asked him, to which Starscream waved him off.

“I’ll stand.” 

“Right then,” Optimus cleared his vocaliser, before pressing forward. “It has come to my attention that you are in a less than ideal state and seem to be lacking personal direction.”

Dear Primus, Optimus was speaking to him like his academy councilor. He had to suppress a roll of his optics.

“Since when is my mental health of great concern to you?” Starscream huffed irritably. 

“Your behavior has been concerning for quite some time, not only to me but to your dear ones. Your trine has expressed-.”

“You’ve been meddling in my trine have you? Have you considered that great overstep into my personal life by a long time enemy might be cause for my supposed emotional distress?”

He hadn’t known Optimus had been talking to his trine, but it was no great shock to him either. Skywarp and Thundercracker had made their displeasure at his recent decision making known and taking traitorous back routes in order to do what they thought was right for him was no new occurrence.

“I appreciate your concern,” Starscream allowed himself to smile through gritted teeth. “But I am adept at handling myself on my own.”

“I am sure of that,” Optimus nodded. “I have seen your skills operating in environments where collaboration is discouraged or even punished. But that is not now. Now is the time to be learning to work alongside each other. Trust and openness will not be punished here and this position will afford you the opportunity to hone those skills.”

“Again Prime, this is very generous of you, but I must decline,” Starscream said, thrusting the paper back at him without further explanation. He didn’t owe them the energy. Optimus took it, albeit reluctantly. A tense silence filled the air between them.

“Where do you see this all going?” Optimus asked him suddenly, the frank question dispersing the formal air of his errand. Starscream looked at him then, actually looked at him as if he were a conversation partner instead of a looming authority figure.

“What are you talking about?” he asked cautiously, unsure of where this was leading. 

“Surely you had plans for your postwar life. You didn’t spend 4 million years being an absolute terror just to imagine you’d while away your post war freedom in isolation in a dank apartment, I’d hazard to guess.”

The blunt assessment by Optimus caught him off guard.

“What are you getting at?” Starscream said, eyes narrowing in confusion as he looked from Optimus to the paper in his hands and back again.

“You had ambitions once, if I’m not mistaken, less than a year ago, what happened to them?”

They lapsed back into uneasy silence as Starscream’s face became pinched and it seemed as if he had decided he was done speaking and would remain silent and unmoving until Optimus left. 

Realizing a stone wall when he had hit it, Optimus sighed, folding the paper in half and holding it out. Starscream took it, not looking at him.

“Ratchet was not being sincere about the jail time. There will be no negative repercussions if you should choose to decline. But please, consider it.”

With that Optimus was leaving and the door shut, leaving him once again alone.

\--

“So, how’d it go?” Ratchet said, and Optimus could tell by the smug tone in his voice he knew exactly how it went.

“He’s going to think it over,” Optimus said hesitantly.

Ratchet snorted, “Like pit he is. We’ll find him dead and rusted under a pile of trash at this rate.”

“Give him time,” Optimus sighed. “We can’t pressure him into this, he’s-.”

“Volatile, fragile, and violent, yes, I am well aware, I treat his victims,” Ratchet snipped. “Why do you care? Why not let the slagger rot if he’s just harming himself in the end?”

Optimus looked at him wearily.

“Are you really that soft on Megatron after all these years that you can’t see him go for a bit of sparkache for picking a lunatic to fall in love with?”

“Starscream is a risk to him, and that concerns me, yes. And I do not think Megatron has the self control to stay away from him for long either,” Optimus mused, wry amusement coloring his tone.

“But that is not why I wish to aid Starscream. Or at least not the only reason.”

“Then what?”

“It is a waste,” Optimus finally said after a bit of thought. “One thing Starscream has always had is limitless ambition, potential, and vision. Even when on the wrong side, those were qualities about him I admired. Now that we are on the same side, in a way, I would like to see those talents put to use for something other than destruction.”

Ratchet looked at him, clearly trying to suppress an optic roll, “Your optimism is limitless, your common sense is not.”

Optimus laughed, clapping his old friend on the shoulder, “Yes, maybe that is so.”

\--  
It had been a few days since Optimus’ visit. And if Starscream’s motivation to do anything had been bad before, well, now….

Starscream sat on his long underused berth. It was full of the same garbage as the rest of his apartment and served more as a thinking bench or lab table than an actual place of rest.

He was acquainted with shame. Especially after the war. Once he had said shame is for people that put dignity before their goals. But Optimus had been right, he had no goals, and he was spiralling, and it was apparent to others that he was spiraling.

Hot shame washed over him in a fresh wave and suddenly his apartment seemed small and claustrophobic, and oh Primus he hadn’t flown since that night with Megatron. 

It struck him that he really didn’t know who he was anymore. Not senator Starscream, not prince Starscream, not air commander Starscream. He was Megatron’s former second at best right now. Just a ghost of a title hidden in someone’s shadow. Helm in servos, Starscream found himself muttering.

He took out the paper again and gave it a long, resentful look, before pinging him reluctantly. Immediately he was receiving an incoming request which he accepted.

He could feel the brightness of Optimus’ smile through the comm.

“Starscream,” he could feel himself wanting to draw back from the flood of warm in the tone that greeted him. 

“I’ve decided to give this proposal of yours a try,” Starscream said stiffly. 

“Wonderful. Any idea as to when you would be able to start?”

Starscream surveyed the filth of his room. “A week or so?” Enough time to pull himself together to some extent, he hoped.

“Wonderful, then you’ll have to go through a mandatory visit with Ratchet, make sure he fixes your wing and get it out of the way before coming in for your first shift.”

“If I must,” Starscream said, not even trying to hide how put upon he sounded.

“It is a prerequirement, yes.” 

“Well then, I suppose we’ll chat then,” Starscream said, and before he could hear Optimus’ response he cut the connection.

\---

It was with great stealth and grace that Ratchet found Starscream slipping in through his window the next morning.

“There’s a door for normal, non invasive guests,” Ratchet said pointedly, idly shuffling the tools around his tray as he did his best to ignore the seeker.

“Optimus said-,” Starscream started, tone immediately shifting to wheedling seemingly on reflex.

“I know what he said,” Ratchet cut him off. “Sit on the berth.”

Starscream, surprisingly, obeyed without snark. After a few more minutes of tense silence Ratchet turned to him, tools at the ready. He took a moment to actually get a look at Starscream.

To say he wasn’t up to his former glory would be an understatement. His armor was dull and seemed like it had barely been polished over the last couple weeks, or maybe even months. His optics were dim as if he wasn’t fueling or recharging properly. Or both.

Subtle dings and dents littered his wings save for an especially sharp one, which he guessed would be the one that Megatron had made in it nearly a month ago. He wondered if Starscream had just offlined his sensors for the wing or if his pain tolerance was high enough for him to just grin and bear it.

“You fly with that?”

Starscream shrugged, “I’ve flown with worse.”

“I’m sure you have,” Ratchet said, leaving off commenting on how this had been a self inflicted choice and not something done out of life preserving necessity.

Ratchet could just do as Optimus asked and fix the one dent by Megatron before sending him on his way. He could short himself less time with the irritable seeker and shunt off the problem to someone else. 

But he had the feeling that Starscream was always getting shunted off and it had to stop somewhere right? Lest he explode and the collateral of that ended up in his medbay.

“I don’t suppose Optimus told you I’d be giving you a full scale examination?” 

“He said you to get me into working shape, whatever that means,” Starscream snorted appearing unphased except for the way his servo gripped the berth’s edge.

“Alright then, let’s get this over with so you can get on duty,” Ratchet said, preparing himself to ramble off a list of very obvious things Starscream should be doing as part of basic self care.

As he got to Starscream’s wings he said, “I’m going to need you to online all your sensors if you have them off.”

“They’re online,” Starscream said, wing flicking in irritation at the implication that he would resort to such a careless trick.

“Deal with this sort of damage often then?” 

“Are you referring to damage to my wings or damage by Megatron, because the answer to both is yes and they often overlap,” Starscream said, but there was no real anger to his inflection. Just dull irritation.

“Your trine said he nearly tore your wings off before the peacetime ceremony.”

“Just another one of his charming flirtations,” Starscream said airily, even as his optics darkened at the memory. To be fair, he had been trying to pry Megatron’s spark from his chest post interfacing so the only surprise behind that incident was that Megatron hadn’t fully offlined him.

“Prompted by a few advances of my own.”

It was eerie how quiet Starscream was during the operation. He had seen bigger mechs cry over dents a tenth of the size on far less sensitive areas. But Starscream sat still and silent, mouth only tightening a time or two as Ratchet brushed a bare sensor fixing his wing.

“Right, should be functional now. I’m not a paintshop so if you want to have your wings looking less patchy, I suggest you visit one.”

Ratchet turned away to set his tools down.

“The last part is you let me examine your spark,” Ratchet said and he was expecting to turn around and see Starscream with his chest plates open spark at the ready but what he met was a stoney faced seeker boring holes into the floor.

“Is it possible we could skip this step? My spark is hardly normal enough to meet whatever definition of healthy they taught you back in academy.”

“Full exam means full exam, now stop wasting my time and yours both and open up,” Ratchet said. He could’ve let it go but his intrigue at the shifty nature of the seeker and his desire to put a stop to his rather violent shenanigans pushed him to press forward.

With a sigh, Starscream’s chest plates cracked open and the soft light of his spark emanated. Ratchet peered at it curiously. For the fuss Starscream had just put up, it looked fairly regular, if not a little larger than it should have been. He noticed some singe marks around the inside of the chamber.

“There’s signs of instability in your spark in the past, however it looks normal now. Any idea what the cause might’ve been?” Ratchet asked, peering up to look at Starscream. He had seldom seen optics that looked so dead of emotion and contact with them unsettled him.

“Not a clue, doctor. Is that all?”

“Hold on,” Ratchet said sparing another lingering glance at Starscream’s spark chamber, noting small, almost unnoticeable hairline cracks in the walls of the chamber. That wasn’t good, but it wasn’t something that needed medical intervention to heal on its own.

“You’ll need to come in monthly for a bit, you have some cracks on your inner chamber and I want to keep an eye on it until it’s fully healed,” Ratchet said, eyeing the seeker for signs of disagreement.

Surprisingly there were none, Starscream merely nodded his helm in tired acknowledgement.

“Was there ever any issue with merging in your past? Any incidents or any serious injuries that affected your spark?” He wasn’t going to ask the question outright, no, but he knew Starscream was aware of what he was hinting at.

Starscream shrugged.

“Megatron’s spark is tinged with dark energon, I suppose it might be that. At any rate I don’t suppose there’s much to be done about it now. Are we clear on this exam?”

“I suppose that’ll be it,” Ratchet agreed reluctantly. Starscream sealed his spark back away. The tension didn’t ease from his frame. 

“Thank you for your time then, doctor,” Starscream said stiffly, inclining his helm and turning to go. Ratchet let him, looking after him curiously for a moment before turning back to setting his tools away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next ch will have megatron in it, i swear....


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Advice and comfort from two sides

Starscream tried not to suppress a groan when the irritating vop of his trinemate’s warp drive signalled their arrival in his pit of an apartment. He was seated on the couch, mind fizzing in and out of being nothing but static and actual coherent thought.

“You could comm you’re outside like civilized mech,” Starscream growled in irritation as Skywarp and Thundercracker appeared before him.

“As if that gets us anywhere with you,” Skywarp said, as he looked around the wreck of an apartment, taking it in.

“Ratchet told us you accepted a position with Optimus,” Thundercracker said, smiling tentatively at Starscream who shuttered his optics in irritation at his private affairs apparently becoming common gossip.

“Conspiring with the autobot medic now are we?”

“There’s no sides anymore Screamer, war’s over. Besides I like Ratchet, we chat now and then,” Skywarp reminded him, pushing forward to scoop him into a creaking hug. Starscream groaned involuntarily but was grateful that his wing had been repaired, otherwise the hug might’ve been intolerable.

Skywarp noticed, looking at his wing and then back to Starscream’s face, slow smile spreading across his own. 

“See you finally got that fix after almost a month of dodgin’ it,” Skywarp said, reaching a finger to poke at where the dent had been which earned his servo a slap as Starscream violently batted him away.

“When was the last time you cleaned too?” Thundercracker said looking around the apartment with distaste.

“I didn’t exactly plan for guests today,” Starscream seethed, irritated he was suddenly being both patronized and insulted at once.

“We’re not guests, we’re trine. And you clearly need interaction,” Skywarp snorted, gesturing at the mess and then at Starscream. “Lookit this.” 

He picked up a vial of something particularly odd looking sitting on the coffee table, sniffed it and then made a face. “This isn’t healthy Screamer.”

Tired of being nettled, Starscream moved to throttle Skywarp before he felt a calm but firm servo on his wing and another pushing down on his shoulder that settled him in place. In a better state, Starscream would have flicked his wings and told Thundercracker to keep his servos to himself, but it had been a while since he had been indulged in contact other than Ratchet’s probing fingers or Megatron’s violent grip, so Starscream allowed himself to melt into the touch.

“So,” Thundercracker drawled, starting to rub small circles into his trinemate’s wings, watching as the tension eked out of Starscream as he did. “It seems like Megatron has recovered from you two’s little spat.”

“Unfortunate. Seems like I’ll have to finish the job eventually,” Starscream said disinterestedly.

“You can’t kill him Screamer, Optimus literally told us you’d get the death penalty if you did.”

“They won’t know it’s me,” Starscream said in a concerningly deadpan tone.

“Like slag they won’t,” Skywarp laughed. “There is exactly one mech who’s been gunning for Megatron’s life as long as you have, you’d be top of the list of suspects.”

“Warp’s right Star, you’re smart, not smart enough to outwit an entire investigation team. Even if they couldn’t prove it was you, might not stop them from offlining you anyways.”

“Bad idea Screamer. Here’s a good one, just be nice to Megatron,” Skywarp said, coming back to sit on the couch and nestle himself into Starscream’s side.

“I’ll show Megatron courtesy when he has the courtesy to keel over and die.”

Thundercracker sighed, rolling his optics, “If that isn’t a bit melodramatic. You know you two might run into each other at this job of yours. You’ll have to be civil then.”

Starscream sighed, “I suppose I could tolerate the old dolt in small doses.” They lapse into silence, Starscream content to just continue enjoying Thundercracker’s rubbing.

“I thought you two were doing well,” Skywarp finally said, wings twitching in a manner that betrayed his nerves at asking the question. “Before the peace pact and all that.”

“Before you shut us out of the bond,” Thundercracker said pointedly.

Starscream could feel irritation returning, as Thundercracker watched his frame grow hunched in agitation. He tried to shove down the hot rush of guilt. They hadn’t said it yet but he was aware that he had been neglecting his trinemates and neglecting their bond.

“Starscream, Ratchet mentioned that there was something irregular about your spark during the examination, did someth-,” Thundercracker was cut off with an enraged snarl as Starscream’s frame jerked away from his touch. Within an instant he was met with Starscream’s piercing, enraged optics as his frame shuddered in incensed indignation.

“That medic had no business-,” He started cutting himself off in his own agitation. “I told him that it was just Megatron’s defective spark. Maybe a few battle injuries.”

Thundercracker and Skywarp quietly observed Starscream’s frame hunching in on itself, wings twitching in agitation as he sputtered out disjointed, halting sentences. The two of them had known him long enough to know what Starscream acted like when he was feeling cornered about something he wasn’t ready to discuss.

“Alright, alright,” Thundercracker soothed, grabbing ahold of Starscream’s twitching wings and running his servos along them. “Star, did someone hurt you, or force you-.”

“Oh Primus,” Starscream gasped. “No. It wasn’t anything like that.”

“Well then what then? You can’t just,” Skywarp’s jovial disposition seemed to dissipate as fear and anger crept into his expression as he shoved Starscream back roughly to get a look at him. “Shut us out and then make us watch you suffer and tell us it's none of our business. In case you haven’t forgotten, we’re trine!”

“It’s between Megatron and I,” Starscream said, and by the stubborn jut of his chin, Thundercracker could see they probably weren’t going to be able to push him into revealing the issue right yet.

“Well then you have to fragging talk to him Star,” Skywarp said. “And stop shutting us out of the bond for Primus’ sake. It’s like you don’t even want us anymore.”

That sentence seemed to throw a cold bucket of water on Starscream’s anger which abruptly smoldered out.

“It’s not like that,” he said in a bare whisper, optics shifting away to look at anything that wasn’t the pleading eyes of his trine.

“It’s just … complicated,” Starscream sighed after a long stint of hesitation.

“When is it not complicated with you?” Skywarp said sharply, but the anger was quickly sapping out of his tone. 

“When I’m dead,” Starscream said flatly.

“As if,” Thundercracker chuckled, “you wouldn’t haunt our afts for letting your spark extinguish.”

Starscream’s mouth pulled up in an almost smile at that. He did let the bond open a crack, which was about as good as they ever got with Starscream while his guard was up. He kept things abstract enough so that the things he wanted to hide could stay hidden. Still, nervousness, guilt, and anxiety tingled through the bond. Thundercracker and Skywarp relaxed a bit and the tension in the room ebbed.

“Seriously though, we’re cleaning this up before we leave,” Thundercracker said, flicking a bit of trash off the couch. “Thank Primus you’re taking that job.”

\---

“No,” Megatron said, no tone or expression to his face, as he began to close the door in Prime’s face.

“Megatron I-,” Optimus began. 

“I have enough energon inside me and not bleeding out on the floor to turn your prying down this time Prime,” Megatron said and yes he was aware Optimus’ pede was caught in the door and that the door was more likely to break before it did. But he still leaned his full bodily weight on the door in an attempt to shut him out.

“Megatron, I will not leave until you at least let me talk,” Optimus said stubbornly. For all his niceties and pleasant tones, when it came down to it Optimus was just as much of a stubborn fragger as Megatron himself was.

Megatron sighed. He leaned against the door for a moment, before straightening up and letting it swing open slowly. There was a dent from Optimus’ pede. Great.

Optimus tried to close it behind him but it didn't seem to quite want to. He looked at it and then back to Megatron awkwardly, “Ah, sorry.”

Megatron motioned tiredly, “Get on with it.”

“Are you feeling alright lately?” Optimus asked, optics blue and open and concerned. That was the worst thing about Optimus. His ability to care. Because that meant a penchant for meddling. And with things the way they were that was the last thing he needed.

“I would be better if you would stop inviting yourself into my presence unannounced,” Megatron snarked.

“So you could further dodge important conversations?”

“So I could locate a blaster and prepare,” Megatron threatened.

“Acclimating to postwar life smoothly as expected,” Optimus sighed. “It’s good you keep these threats confined to private spaces and not during council meetings.”

“And in order to continue that trend I have come here to notify you that Starscream may be attending them on occasion as I have given him a job as an associate of the New Cybertronian government.”

Megatron halted in his snarky reply, to look at Optimus dumbfounded. “You’re letting him do politics? The little saboteur? ” The way he said that word made it sound like a compliment.

“Not quite, but he will be engaging in reconstruction efforts the same as you and I,” Optimus said. “I actually want him working on a plan to rebuild and introduce mechs back into Vos. I haven’t told anyone else yet because clearance for the project just came through this morning.”

“Oh,” Megatron said softly. “He will love that,” Megatron was smiling to himself as if imagining Starscream’s palpable excitement for himself. Then he remembered himself and his Optics refocused onto Optimus as he eyed him shrewdly. 

“I don’t think you would have to worry about him roadblocking reconstruction efforts there, well played Prime.”

“I wish you would just call me Optimus, we’ve known each other since long before the war,” Prime said without expecting much of a response. He didn’t get one of course.

“What is your angle with Starscream, doing this for him?” Megatron asked, looking at Optimus closely.

“He clearly needs a task, it seems like he gets up to little good by himself,” Optimus said in an uncharacteristically blunt manner. He was beginning to learn that the less energy he put into being nice with former decepticons and the more energy he put into laying out their options and his intentions, the farther he got.

“I see you are beginning to understand my 4 million year old problem,” Megatron said and then he seemed to notice that Optimus and him had been lingering in his entryway for far too long. 

“I suppose you will be here a while?”

“If you’ll have me.”

“You delight yourself in the illusion of choice, Prime,” Megatron said, glancing at the broken door before turning to go deeper into his house. It was small and sparsely furnished. There was a comfortable looking chair and a stack of datapads next to it along with a lamp. Aside from that there was a coffee table and that was it for the living room. 

“I see you don’t entertain many guests,” Optimus mused. 

“Who do you imagine would visit me?” Megatron said, looking back over his shoulder at Optimus. “I’m not winning any popularity contests with my charm.”

“You charmed enough mechs to make it a 4 million year war,” Optimus said as they stepped into what served as the dining room and kitchen combined. It was less bare than the livingroom before it but not by much. There was a table, with a plain cloth on it, but this time on the walls there were a few framed pictures, and on the counter leading into a small cramped space that served as the kitchen, was a small potted plant of crystal growing.

“But not enough to make them win it,” Megatron said as he glanced around the room, aware of how homely and drab it looked compared to Optimus’ rather robust appearance. His optics lingered on the plant a moment. Perhaps he should get more plants. Stop making his house like a prison.

“Did you buy that for yourself?” Optimus asked, amused at the dainty thing in Megatron’s care. It was growing well from what he knew of crystal plants, its color a deep, gaudy hue of purple.

“Soundwave gave it to me, he thought it was good that I learn to look after something,” Megatron muttered.

“Ah so you do get visitors,” Optimus said, pulling out a seat and sitting down heavily on it. Megatron followed him after, seating himself directly across from Optimus. Always in opposition, them two.

“Old habits die hard with that one I guess,” Megatron said, but there was something fond slipping into his tone as he said that. Something about that put Optimus at ease. It was good to know that Megatron had a friend of some sort.

“And did Starscream visit?” 

The fondness disappears and Megatron’s optics flare before dimming. 

“Why do you insist on prying so deeply into other’s affairs, particularly mine? The war is over Prime, you gain nothing from meddling with my personal life,” Megatron said but it was less anger that flooded his tone and expression, he merely looked wounded.

“I am not asking after personal matters to further cause you pain,” Optimus said, tone soft and he hoped, calming. 

Megatron didn’t respond. He got up and left the table. Optimus didn’t move, just sat back and watched Megatron rifle in the small square of his cooling container, and come back with two cubes of energon. Optimus looked to him in mild surprise.

“Just because I do not get guests often, it doesn’t mean I do not know how to treat the ones I do receive. Even if it’s reluctantly,” Megatron said, sliding a cube of energon across the table to Optimus. He took a sip of it. It was heavy, spiced and surprisingly tangy.

“What is this?” 

Megatron smiled, “It’s energon brewed and mulled the way we had it back in Tarn.”

“Ah, I see. Remind you of home?” Optimus asked, optics alight with curiosity. Megatron was never one to regale others of stories from his past before the war.

“Reminds me of simpler times,” Megatron said distantly. He held his cube but didn’t drink from it.

“Time’s have gotten simpler recently.”

Megatron took a sip from his cube, “From war to the tangled web of politics. Truly.”

“No one is aiming a blaster at you in politics.”

“No, not yet. We’ll see how long it takes for resentment of old wounds to boil over,” Megatron said grimly.

“Is that what happened at the party?” The question came out suddenly, on impulse, and immediately Optimus regretted it as Megatron stiffened and then hunched over the table, leaning in close enough for him to smell the energon as he spoke.

“Optimus,” Megatron said lowly, optics dark with some yet unexpressed emotion. “If you came here as a friend, stop trying to interrogate me as if I am withholding some vital intelligence.” Megatron leaned back and relaxed into his chair, swirling his cube.

Optimus looked at him then and realized that his image of who Megatron had been and who he was now were at great conflict with each other in his processor. Age and the end of the war had tempered the steel of Megatron’s anger. It still surfaced, brilliant, blinding and threatening as ever, but it was with words and cutting remarks, excellently timed and unleashed during council meetings.

He saw bits of who Megatron had been then. He also saw flashes of who he was trying to be in the exact same instance. But here, in the small, sparse and dare he admit it, almost cozy home, Megatron just looked weathered and tired.

“Sorry, truly, I am. That was a massive overstep. Old habits die hard, I suppose,” He said, and he felt the prickle of embarrassment rising up his frame. Quiet filled the room, though Megatron did not seem discomforted by it. He merely sipped his energon, looking at Optimus and then looking beyond him, optics growing distant.

“I don’t know what the party was about. Or anything before it. And haven’t known for a while,” Megatron said finally. 

“I was warned once about seekers. Take them to the berth they say, great fun. Want for anything more and you’ll never truly have it.”

Megatron set his cube down gently, letting out a small chuckle “It’s a farce told by mechs who are far too arrogant to realize the more realistic reasons why their amorous requests are being rejected.”

“Seeker culture is very insular and a lot of things are said without words. I know Starscream is suffering great inner turmoil and part of it is tied to me. I do not know what it is, or why it has flared to be near unbearable for him lately.”

Megatron shrugged. 

“And you’ve tried talking to him? Not like at the party, actually talking to him,” Optimus asked, because he honestly hadn’t seen the two exchange a calm word since the war ended.

Megatron rubbed his brow in exasperation, “Forging a peace pact with you was easier done than talking to Starscream when he has it in his dense little helm he must do something alone and for his own self preservation. I did not weather thousands of assassination attempts to forget that fact. But yes, I did try talking to him, I was rebuffed.” 

“Your patience with this entire ordeal is surprising,” Optimus admitted. Sure, he hadn’t been at his best about it at the party. But the Megatron he had known during wartime would’ve kept the same screwdriver and gouged out something in return for the slight.

“I expected it,” Megatron said. His cube was empty and he swirled the remaining dregs of metal shavings that had given it their spice, looking at it intently. “4 million years of fighting and scrambling for power. Violence and anger and resentment. It does not fade overnight. I may not have done anything in particular to provoke this specific outburst, but my actions over the years, it cemented a mentality that created this.”

“I do not know if Starscream will come around. The party was me trying to exert pressure on him to change his mind. Force his servo. I reverted to my old ways and so did he.”

“Do you think you two encountering each other at the job will make things worse?” Optimus said, regretting now that he too was trying to force the situation.

“I don’t know,” Megatron’s shoulders slumped with his admission. “I don’t know if things get worse from here.” Even when Starscream was trying to kill him there had still been opportunities to learn and understand and build to something more. Or at least try. The eerie silence that had pervaded their postwar relationship made Megatron aware of one thing.

The idea that the fights were over and Starscream was gone terrified him. 

“I suppose,” Optimus said, reaching out to clasp a servo on Megatron’s shoulder and shaking him gently, rousing him from his whirl of despairing thoughts. “The best you can do at times is try, and accept a loss if necessary.” 

Megatron’s optics shuttered off at that last line, “If things turn out badly, just,” Megatron sighed heavily. “Arrange things so we never cross paths again.”

He could only hope it wouldn’t come to that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next ch will probably actually have some megastar interaction, sorry this is building so slow lolol

**Author's Note:**

> insp song:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vGTGJJt01zo
> 
> come say howdy on my tumblr of the same name


End file.
